


Cause You’re Just a Dead Man Walking

by Barlyle (spideys_ass)



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Afterlife, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Barnum POV, Canon Divergence, Feelings Realization, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, What-If, sad angsty Barnum, the fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-06 01:32:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13400637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideys_ass/pseuds/Barlyle
Summary: Phillip doesn’t survive the fire, and Barnum is left to deal with the aftermath.





	Cause You’re Just a Dead Man Walking

**Author's Note:**

> So this main idea is kinda based off this: https://tonystark-loganhowlett.tumblr.com/post/169663008476/phineas-couldnt-save-phillip-from-the-fire

“Anne! Where’s Anne? Oh God...” Phillip turns to us, searching for Anne in the crowd. 

“Phillip... Phillip no!” I reach around, trying to get to him, to hold him back. He can’t go in there! I try to stop him but he shakes me off, running back into the burning building and I can’t do anything. And in that moment, right as he is inside, the structure collapses on top of him. I need to save him, but WD and O’Malley are relentless. 

“Let me go! I need to get to him!” I grit my teeth, struggling against them, even though I know I won’t be getting away.

Lettie comes towards me. “No, you can’t go in there too. Not all three of you.”

“I know, I know, he’s gonna find her, he’s got to...” I think to myself, staring off at the burning building. WD and O’Malley finally let go, thinking she’s convinced me not to go in, and for the moment, I do stay, praying that Anne and Phillip come back to me alive. 

“Anne!” I hear WD cry out, and yes! She’s here. “Oh thank God!” He mutters into their hug. 

I look around, expecting to greet Phillip, but he doesn’t appear. Of course, I know what that means... I turn facing the crowd and take in the image of my family, Charity, my girls, Lettie, O’Malley, WD, Anne, Charles, and the entire cast and crew... knowing it may be my last viewing. All of them are there. My family. All but one missing. Phillip.

I run, head first into the fire, immediately alert of any movement or sounds remotely human like, but in the middle of a raging hot fire, it really is hard to notice anything. My clothes have caught fire, burning away the material to eat at my sisters kin, but I don’t bother putting it out. It’s not important now. Nothing is. Just locating Phillip. Phillip who I dragged into this. Him, more than the others. Wondrous, beautiful Phillip, who can look past social norms and what is expected of him to choose his own path. To choose a life of excitement and fun and freedom and... well, it’s not exactly choosing if you’re dragged into it, is it? 

I’ve almost completely checked the entire bottom floor, and I can’t imagine that’d he’d be on the second story— or above. That’d be an entirely different matter. 

“Phillip! Phillip!” I scream. He needs to be here. Goddammit, where is he? 

And then I hear it. The faintest of coughs. “Phillip! Thank God!” I run towards the sound, and lay eyes on him. I can barely tell that it’s him, and not just some burning log, as he is completely covered in black soot, but I can distinctly see the shape of his fingers and arm from underneath the remains of the stairs. 

I pull his arm, yanking him from under there, and at first try to get him to lean against me, but I soon can tell he is just dead weight. I lift him, bridal style, and run out the side of the building. There isn’t such a crowd here, in fact, everyone seems to have flocked to the front, leaving him and I alone.

“Phillip... Phillip...” I mutter staring down at him. I can feel myself tearing up, but don’t notice myself actually crying until my teardrops land on his cheek, and I use the opportunity to wipe away some of the soot, but then pause.

His eyelashes flutter. “Oh Phillip, oh Phillip, please, stay with me.” He’s slowly becoming responsive , but my tears won’t stop spilling out onto his cheek. Finally, his eyes open, and those crystal clear bright blue eyes stare directly into my watery ones. For a second, his mouth seems to curl up to what almost is a smile, but he is sent into a coughing fit. 

“Phillip. Phillip Carlyle. Stay here. Look at me.” I demand, and his coughing stops, those exquisite eyes once again meet mine. 

“Phin... Phineas.” Phillip mustered out. 

“Yes? Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, what is it? What is it Phillip?” He’s going to live. I know he will, but... then why am I acting like he won’t? He has to live. There’s so much I was never able to say and I can’t now. I wouldn’t dream of making him uncomfortable if these truly are his last moments. Which they aren’t. They can’t be. 

There’s the attempted smile again— but this time it’s fulfilled, and Phillip is smiling again, his beautiful smile, the white of his teeth deeply contrasting the black of everything else. “It’s- well... I...” He gets an endearing look on his face, which is actually quite worrying, considering our position. 

“Yes?” I ask, perhaps too impatiently, but I’m so scared. Scared I could loose him at any moment. 

“Hmm.” He hums. “C’mere.” He whispers.  
‘C’mere’? What does he mean? I lean forward a bit, not understanding. “Closer.” He insists. I lean closer to the ground, our noses practically bumping, and now— Now I can see every part of his eyes, I could stare at them for years. I want to. I only hope I get the privilege of doing so. Phillip smiles again, and exhales, if I didn’t know better, I could guess that he was blushing under all the soot. Maybe I’m making him uncomfortable, maybe this isn’t what he meant at all.

But then— the small distance between us that existed a moment prior— is gone. He presses his lips against mine, but it’s barely a press, just a brushing of lips, ever so gentle, and I turn my head to the side, moving our lips against each other’s. I open my eyes and find his already boring right into mine, with such a sense of longing that my eyes start tearing up once more. 

And finally, it has to come to an end, he leans his head back down against the ground, eyes still struggling to stay open.  
“Phillip...” I say, the name on my tongue more than just a name, but an entire person. And he huffs out what may be a laugh, and opens his mouth. 

“Barnum...” He mumbles, and as always his voice is honey, playful as always, his eyes always crystalline and bright, his smile always cocky. And then... nothing. He’s still. 

“Phillip?” He’s still, too still. “Phillip!” He’s frozen. He’s gone... “No no no no no, Oh God no, please no, oh God.” I sob, and nothing about him changes except... the radiance that has always taken root in his eyes, fades away. And somehow, they look dull. And I’m holding him and full out sobbing, and I know I’m loud... soon everyone will be gathered around me to see the spectacle.

So while I still can, I lean down, and press one final kiss on his cheek, on the edges of his soft, gentle lips. And just like that.... Phillip Carlyle is gone.

*

There is no real funeral. There is no word from his parents, his supposed other friends, acquaintances, relatives, fans... The only ones that actually come to see his body put underground is the circus. I suppose that we really were all he really had. And... I can’t not think... it’s because of me... I stopped this. He could be alive right now... Or perhaps he would be dead. But in that life, he would’ve been mourned by people that actually mattered. Not by a conman in a costume. But no, I made him choose this life, and it brought him nothing. But it took away everything. It took his life. And... by default I took his life. I killed him. I killed Phillip Carlyle. 

*

When a person of high importance to you dies, what place is there to go than the bar? What place is there to go that stops your brain, letting your guilt and self-loathing silently brew, other than the bar?

I never noticed how much Mr. Carlyle truly meant to me. In fact, I’m not sure it could be much worse if Charity died. I don’t know why... but it’s true. I see him everywhere, in everything. I’ll find myself calling out for him, in the mornings sometimes, or sometimes when I am caught up in something appealing, wanting to share the idea, or pass something on. But he’s gone, and it seems impossible. 

It’s all I’ve done the past three nights since his death. I drink, and I drink, and I drink. Until the memory of Phillip Carlyle leaves my brain and I’m completely numb. I stay later than everyone else, and the poor bartender has to drag me out into the alleyway because I’m that far gone. But one time I made the mistake of not having enough drinks and all I could think about was the day that I recruited him. A beautiful rememberable night in which I killed who may’ve been my love, when I killed the most remarkable human of the century. 

I start chugging another bottle.

*

Anne hurt too. I can see it. But she had already prepared to have her heart broken.

I hadn’t even known where my heart was. 

She’s strong. And so I chose to have her undertake the role of ringmaster. I don’t want it anymore. I can’t. It’s a good thing the rest of the crew unanimously decided to post-pone the shows for Phillip. I know soon that they’ll start back up. That I’ll have to go up onstage with a fake smile and fake cheeriness. I’ve never had to do that before. But I’m not going to abandon them. I wouldn’t do that. Instead, I’ll introduce Anne to them slowly, then I can leave. I don’t know what to do with my family.

*

“Phineas?” Charity was walking down the stairs, suitcase in hand. Huh. I’d almost forgotten about Jenny. 

I grunted in response, hands curling over my drink, preparing for her to leave, to yell, to lecture, something. But she doesn’t.

But instead she doesn’t. She walks over to me. “I know you’re going through... a thing. But...” She pulls out the newspaper. “This is inexcusable.” 

“I didn’t... the feelings were not returned.”

“Yeah I bet. You didn’t love her, or me, did you? Only your stupid show! I bet you’ve not loved anyone.” Though her words were strong, her tone wasn’t harsh, just quiet. “So... I’m leaving. And I’m taking the girls with me. I’m going to my parents... maybe one day you’ll actually get your life together again, but if you don’t love me now, you won’t love me then.” She walked to the door. “Goodbye, Phineas.” And slammed the door.

Don’t I love her though? Is she right? Did I never love her? Or anyone? Am I incapable of it? Maybe, maybe... but then Phillip came to mind. Do I love him? That would explain things... but I don’t know. Maybe I don’t actually know what love is.

*

I stood at the railing, watching the show from above. Anne is doing a great job so far... she gets better every night. It’s amazing seeing her up there, passionate as always, dancing her heart out. 

I only wish Phillip could see it too. He’d be so amazed. I wish it was Phillip up there instead.

No one really seems to be over it, exactly. But it’s not consuming their lives. Not like it is mine. But I know why now, I loved him. I loved him so much, so much. God, if only I’d known it earlier, if only he was alive right now... I’d be at least able to hug him, and see those beautiful eyes. How could I not have known I loved him? It was so obvious. And he... kissed me. Maybe he liked me back. He knew it was me, at least. 

Anne put her all into the finale, gaining an insanely positive reaction from the audience, and I know she’ll be fine. As long as the audience loves her, she’ll be successful. 

Maybe I’m done, maybe my time is finally over. Maybe now I can stop pretending.

*

The bartender looks worried, for the first time since I’ve known him. I could say something, assure him that I’m alright. Instead, I just signal for another glass. I’ve been in here the entire day. It was a weekend, those days I had put aside for my family, but I still hadn’t told them about Charity leaving with our girls, so I was able to get away. Yeah, I know, I lied. But I can’t face anyone any longer. 

To be entirely honest, l don’t know why I’m dragging this out. Just get it done with already, dammit. 

I look towards the window, and the sky’s already dark. Dunno when that happened. I suppose I just need another drink. I tap on the bar table. 

“Sir? I think you’ve had quite enough.” 

“No, no, I’m fine.” I slap down more change. “Just give me another drink.” 

“Mr. Barnum, please. We close soon, shouldn’t you be heading home.”

So that’s how it is. “Alright, alright.” I get up, walking towards the door. “Oh wait!” I turn walking, slightly stumbling, but certain, to the bar. “I was supposed to get a bottle for a friend! Do you mind?” I inquire, slipping a few more cents onto the table. 

He looks hesitant, but believes me in the end. “What kind?”

“Strongest stuff you have.” He hands me it, and I strut out the door, smirking. A showman, or conman as some would say, to the end, I suppose. 

Somehow, unintentionally I end up at the old museum, where I saw him for the last time. I sit amongst the rubble. Oh Phillip. Phillip, Phillip, Phillip. Why did I have to drag him into this? I love him. Loved him. I take in a swig of alcohol, which still burns as it goes down. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. I lo-

I gasp, choking on the sip I had taken. I let out a sob. What had I done? He’s gone, and if he’s gone, I want to be gone too. 

The sky is dark, but clear, so the stars are very prominent tonight. It’s chilly, and my tear streams about freeze. It’s so quiet and calm, no one is out tonight. It’s nice... but I don’t want to be here anymore. At one point, surrounded by the right people, tonight could’ve been a good night. Not now. 

I close my eyes, and lean back against what is left of the structure. That’s when I hear it. 

“Phineas...” I snap up, frantically looking around. No one can find me here like this. I wait to hear the voice again. “P.T. ... I’m here, I’m right here.” 

I must be hallucinating... but even so I turn towards the voice. “Ph-Phillip?” I stutter. I stare at the figure in front of me, the figure with dirty blonde hair, perfect smile, and blue, clear, open eyes. “Phillip.” I say, smiling. 

“Yes.” He takes a step closer to me, offering his hand. 

“Phillip,” My voice cracks. “Phillip, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t-“

“Shh...” He comes closer, bending down beside me. “Hey, no, don’t do that, Phineas. My death was not your fault.” He goes silent for a moment. “Phineas... do you know what you’ve done to yourself?” 

I look up, meeting his gaze. “I suppose. I’m sorry— I couldn’t do it, I just-“

“Hey. It’s alright now. Just...” He stands, offering his hand to me. “Take my hand...” He smiles, starting to hum. “I’ll take you to the other side...” I look up into the lightest, purest blue eyes I’ve ever seen and trustingly press my palm to Phillip’s. He pulls me up, and his smile puts everything that happened in past lives at peace.


End file.
